


Aftermath

by Cephy



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Gen, Injury, Rivalry, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-07
Updated: 2005-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Lord is defeated, now to deal with the fallout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Post-HBP, written before the release of DH.

The figure lying in the bed looked smaller. He'd always the phrase was rather silly, but it had turned out to be true. Bereft of expression and energy, sunken down into the pillows with the white of the sheets washing out the tan of skin-- it really didn't seem like there was much left of Harry Potter at all.

Draco shifted, taking some of the weight off his injured leg, and the movement made the curtain he was standing behind-- not hiding, definitely not _hiding_\-- shake. The person sitting by the bedside turned a head of bushy brown hair, eyes searching for the source of the disturbance. He braced himself when those eyes fell upon him, trying for some semblance of his usual composure-- difficult, with his left eye still swollen and his cheeks aching with the memory of bruises, but he tried. He got the impression that Granger wasn't impressed, though, as she just looked at him narrowly and tightened up her lips like she was holding back sour words.

There was some anger there, Draco noticed with a stir of uneasiness-- cold and sharp and focussed, not like what he would have expected from a Gryffindor. Their anger, he knew from experience, was all heat and bluster, single-minded and consuming. The look on Granger's face-- it wasn't the same anymore, and he didn't quite know what to think about it. Yet she didn't say anything, just looked at him. And after a moment, she turned her attention away, looking back towards the sad form on the bed. She was holding Potter's hand, Draco noticed, and as he watched she squeezed it once and let go.

She stood, and brushed by Draco like he didn't exist. The door closed behind her with a muffled click. Draco stared after her for a moment, then shifted to look towards the bed, and realized only then that he really didn't have the faintest idea of what to do.

He stepped closer to the bed, wincing as he moved-- it _hurt _to walk, with his leg the way it was, hurt even more to walk at anything like a normal gait-- and collapsed gratefully into the chair that Granger had abandoned. Potter's face looked even paler from up close, hollowed-out and shadowed, and for a moment he just sat and looked at it.

"You're rather lucky you're unconscious, you know," he heard himself say, and was surprised at the sheer _normalcy _of his voice. "They've got some truly horrifying decorations up in the Great Hall. There are first-years stampeding in the corridors, and most of the girls are wearing all sorts of streamers and badges. Even the Slytherins," he added in disgust. "They tried to put some on me, but of course I wouldn't be caught-- caught dead in--"

The words stopped in his throat, and he had to stop for a moment and catch his breath. When he started speaking again, his voice was a little harder for him to recognize. "They don't look at me any differently, you know. I vanish out of the school just after the Headmaster is murdered, you'd think a few people would have twigged, but no-- your little lackeys are the only ones who seem to know. It's-- frustrating," he heard himself admit. "I feel like I should have this great bloody sign hanging over my head. Like everything that's happened should be written all over me for everyone to stare at, but it's _not_, and everyone just acts like everything is the way it always was, which is bloody _stupid _because _nothing_ is the same-- and _damn it _anyway, Potter!"

Ignoring his bruises, he leaned forward and planted both hands on the bed, leaning over to stare at the unresponsive face. "You stupid, _stupid _Gryffindor," he spat. "What the hell were you thinking? I know you have a thing for saving the day, but you'd think out of anyone in the world you could possibly leave to get hexed into a messy oblivion, it would be me. Five more minutes-- you could have waited, and no one would ever have blamed you for it. And then after, when he was distracted, you could have got him from behind instead of running in headlong, and you could be out there wearing badges with the rest instead of lying in _here_\--"

Draco's arms trembled, and he leaned back into the chair again, eyes never leaving the face of the boy before him. "It's what you _should _have done," he said firmly. "It's what I would have done, if I had ever been stupid enough to let myself get in that situation to begin with." He shook his head. "You're an idiot."

Drawing in an unsteady breath, Draco braced himself and pushed to his feet, striding as fast as he could for the door-- only to stop with his hand on the latch. He closed his eyes, poised there for a long moment, then slowly turned and limped back to the bedside. His mouth twisted as he stared down at Potter's face-- that pale, sunken face.

"I just do not understand you," he whispered at last.

He sat back carefully onto the chair, arranging his leg out in front of him and his bruises on the softer parts of the cushion. Crossing his arms over his chest, he settled in to wait.


End file.
